Bad Penny
by jackwabbit
Summary: Jack's Bad Penny Gene Kicks In Again.  MacGyver Jack Dalton Friendship, Season 7, Spoilers for The Stringer.


**Bad Penny**

Rated: PG-13

Category: Angst, MacGyver/Jack Dalton Friendship

Season: Seven

Spoilers: The Stringer

Summary: Jack's Bad Penny Gene Kicks In Again.

---

A single skater tore up and down the empty rink with a vengeance.

Small swirls of ice erupted at every turn of the man's skates as the blades dug into the ice.

Puffs of frosty breath issued from the skater's nose and mouth.

Sweat glistened on his brow as his longish dirty blond hair hung over his forehead.

He'd been skating a long time.

The rink was long closed, but the man was a regular there, and the owner often looked the other way when this one wanted to skate late.

And so he skated.

And skated.

His legs began to ache and his chest felt like it was on fire.

He couldn't get enough air.

His muscles began to spasm.

But still he skated.

Endlessly circling, charging down the ice and back, stopping suddenly and then continuing.

He carried a hockey stick, but he did not use it.

He simply skated.

Around and around, up and down, all around. Always in motion.

To a casual observer, the man looked like he was training for some serious athletic event.

But to someone who knew him, it was obvious that MacGyver was angry, and not just a little bit. He was furious, and his mood wasn't getting any better.

XXX

Across town, a lock slowly clicked open.

Jack Dalton stepped quietly into what he thought was an empty loft apartment.

As his hand reached for the familiar light switch, however, he was hit from behind. A linebacker came out of nowhere and tackled him full force. Jack reacted without thinking, and rolled away from his attacker once he was on the floor. He managed to get up before the other man and flicked on the lights.

What he saw made him hesitate in delivering his ready punch. A young man stood in a crouch in front of him, looking angry and nothing like the prowler Jack had expected.

"Who are you?" demanded the boy.

Jack looked skeptically at the young man and answered sarcastically.

"Could ask you the same question. What are you doing here?"

"I live here. What's your excuse?"

Jack raised his eyebrows and thought for a bit before answering. "Oh, so you're another of Mac's projects, huh? Well, me too. What say we get a bite to eat?"

Jack sauntered toward the kitchen as if he owned the place, but was stopped by a hand on his chest. His attacker pushed him backward firmly and questioned him again.

"You got a name, buddy?"

"Oh, right. Sure. Dalton. Jack Dalton, Captain. At your service. A friend of MacGyver's." Jack gave a mock salute as he spoke and smiled broadly. "What about you?"

"Sam."

"Well, pleased to make your acquaintance, Sammy. Shall we eat?"

Sam looked at Jack skeptically for a moment, then nodded.

"Sure, but there's not much around. Bunch of healthy crap."

"Yeah, well, that's Mac for ya. We could order pizza. When's Mac due back, anyway? I need to talk to him about something. It's real important."

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. He was pretty pissed when he left."

Jack raised his eyebrows at Sam, but kept his voice level. "Really? About what?"

"None of your business," snarled Sam.

Jack shrugged. "Suit yourself. He'll be back. So, what'd you do to earn yourself a stay at the Chez MacGyver?"

Sam seemed to relax a bit at these words. This guy obviously knew his dad, or he wouldn't be so comfortable here, but Sam was still uneasy about reveling too much of his reasons for being there, so he hedged his answer. "That's none of your business, either."

"Touchy, aren't we? Whatever. Now, about that pizza…"

Jack rummaged around in the kitchen until he found a pizza delivery place menu. He held it up to Sam and called out to the boy. "Pepperoni ok?"

Sam nodded, and Jack made the call.

When he returned, Jack settled on MacGyver's couch next to Sam and put his shoes up on the coffee table. "So, what'll it be? One of Mac's Westerns or something else?"

Sam shrugged. "Whatever."Jack picked up the remote and began to flip through the channels of Mac's TV.

Sam brooded silently on the other end of the couch. If Jack Dalton noticed the gloomy aura around the young man, he said nothing.

The pizza arrived thirty minutes later, and both men dug into it like starvation victims.

Nothing was said until most of the pizza was gone.

Finally, Sam glanced over at Jack and curiosity got the better of him.

"So, you've known MacGyver for a while, then?"

Jack nodded. "Oh, yeah, since we were kids."

"Really.""Yeah. We go way back, Mac and I. We're kimosabe, him and me. Best buds."

"Huh."

"What about you?"

"I just met him a few weeks ago. What did you mean about me being one of his 'projects'?"

"Well, you know Mac, always taking in strays and nursing 'em back to health before turning them loose on the world again."

"I'm not a stray."

"Hey, no offense meant, Sammy. I just meant that Mac likes to help out where he can. I figured you were one of those Challengers kids or something."

"Challengers?"

"No? Oh, sorry. It's a local youth program Mac volunteers for."

"Oh."

"So, if you're not from there, how do you know Mac? Friend of a friend?"

Sam stared at the stranger in front of him for a long moment before he answered. He considered just saying yes. The man was giving him an out. But somehow, he didn't want to, and he couldn't stop the words that came next.

"I'm his son."

Jack Dalton froze. He was struck dumb, something that had happened very rarely in his life.

He simply sat and stared at Sam with his mouth open and a slice of pizza halfway to it for a full thirty seconds. Sam grew uncomfortable, and finally broke the silence.

"What? Is that so hard to believe?"

Jack slowly shook his head negative and his eyes narrowed.

Sam was used to this reaction from MacGyver's friends, though he had met few of them.

As Jack scrutinized the young man in front of him, he slowly nodded. Sam did look like Mac, he thought, uncannily so in some ways. But there was someone else there, too. Someone who was familiar too… it took Jack a second to place it.

When he did, his eyes grew wide, then became sad, and he spoke quietly under his breath.

"Kate…"

Now it was Sam's turn for wide eyes. "You knew my mother?"

Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"When?"

"When she and Mac were going out… I never knew she was pregnant…"

"Neither did he."

Jack nodded once. "Oh."

"Yeah. It's like that. We met by chance… guess it was just meant to be."

Jack nodded again, still blown away by the news that MacGyver had a son. "Guess so."

It was quiet for a moment, then Sam thoughtfully spoke. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, kid."

"What was my mom like back then?"

Jack shifted in his seat and seemed to get uncomfortable quickly. "I don't think I'm the best person to ask about that. You should ask Mac."

"I did. He's still pretty quiet about her."

"Well, to be fair, you're pretty overwhelming news."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, that's true."

Jack glanced at his watch and frowned. "Speaking of MacGyver, it's getting late. He's usually not much of a night owl. You sure you don't know where he went?"

Sam shook his head. "I'd just gotten in when he left. I came in and he came out of his room. He saw me, grabbed a jacket, and left. He seemed mad about something."

"You two have a fight or something?"

"No. Like I said, I'd just gotten in. I'd been out shooting some pictures of the neighborhood for the little local paper. Photographer, you know." Sam held up a camera that he had picked up from the table next to the couch and dangled it in front of Jack.

"Cool."

Sam shrugged. "It's a living."

Jack nodded back. "I suppose so."

"Yeah."

Silence fell then for a long moment and Jack finished the last slice of pizza, then stood suddenly.

Sam looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Where you going?"

Jack looked down at Sam with a funny glint in his eye. "To see where our Mac has disappeared to, my boy. Let's see if we can find out, huh?"

"How do you suggest we do that?" snarled Sam.

Jack smiled patiently. "A little detective work, Sammy. A little detective work."

Jack stepped off in the direction of MacGyver's room, leaving Sam on the couch.

He figured that was as good a place as any to begin his search for Mac's destination.

As soon as he stepped through the doorway, Jack saw something that did not belong.

Mac's room was as it always was. Clean but lived in. A discarded pair of jeans lay in one corner, while several socks seemed to be burrowing under the bed. A few tee-shirts were laying about, and a book lay face down on the night stand. These things were expected and Jack barely noticed them.

But one thing stood out to Jack.

A single sheet of paper lay right in the middle of the unmade bed.

Jack walked quickly over to the bed and examined the page, and his face went pale.

Sam called out to Jack from the living room. "Find anything?"

Jack fought to keep his voice level as he answered. "Um, yeah. I think I might know where Mac went. I'll go check it out."

Sam appeared in the doorway just as Jack shoved the paper into his pocket.

"I'll go with you."

Jack frowned. "Nah, it's ok."

"Come on. I don't have anything better to do. Let me get my coat."

Jack's frown deepened, and his voice took on a serious note. "No. I think it would be best if you stayed here, Sam."

Sam glared at Jack for a minute, then shrugged, deciding that he didn't want to argue.

"Whatever."

Jack nodded. "Alright. I'll see you later, kid."

Sam half heartedly waved Jack off and Jack slid out the door.

Only when he was safely outside Mac's loft did he look again at the paper in his pocket.

It was the results of MacGyver's paternity test for Sam.

And it was undoubtedly was Sam's father.

The test report was stamped with today's date.

Mac had only seen the proof today.

And suddenly Jack did indeed know where Mac was and why he was there.

A shudder ran down Jack's spine as he realized the mood his friend would be in when he found him. He questioned whether he even wanted to find him.

For one thing Jack knew was that MacGyver was not going to be a happy camper.

Not tonight.

XXX

The skater had stopped.

In his place was the shooter.

A bag of hockey pucks had been dumped on the ice, and one by one, they were flying into the boards on one end of the ice.

There was no goal, but the shooter didn't care.

He was aiming at a spot on the boards, and honestly he didn't really care if he hit it.

One after another, the black oversized bullets whizzed through the air.

And one after another they smacked into the boards, leaving small black marks.

Then they fell to the ice, lifeless.

The shooter knew he'd have to clean the boards or pay for any damages he caused with his behavior, but again, he didn't care.

His body seemed to have a life of its own, and that life was needing some sort of outlet.

Because it was still angry.

It was so angry that the shooter barely registered the fiery pain in his left arm as he sent the pucks on their way.

He wasn't supposed to be doing this, and his arm let him know that fact with every shot.

The skating was fine, but this was not.

But the man relished the pain. He welcomed it. It distracted him from why he was here.

It busied his mind.

It reminded him that in order to shoot properly, he had to rotate his fractured arm with every strike.

And so he concentrated on it.

He made an effort to be sure it hurt every time. To be sure his shots had proper mechanics.

The man was so engrossed in his task that he never noticed when the rink's unlocked side door eased open.

He never noticed when a single man slid into a chair high in the small arena to watch his antics.

And he never noticed when that man stood and made his way down to the edge of the rink just beside and behind him.

He didn't notice until finally his arm became too much for him.

The shooter's grunt was loud in the silent arena, and his shot went wide.

As he dropped his stick and cradled his now throbbing arm, the shooter looked to the ceiling, then began to skate again, in small circles.

The action was unconscious and born of years on the ice in skates.

But as he wandered, the man's eyes dropped eventually, and they lit upon the man watching him.

Jack Dalton merely smiled, then waved in a tiny salute.

MacGyver glared.

Neither man spoke for a long moment as Mac's skates stilled.

Finally, Jack broke the silence, as usual.

"You know, I'm not sure, but I've heard you're supposed to rest broken bones."

Mac sneered back at Jack. "Shut up, Jack."

Jack's eyebrows lifted. "My, my. Aren't we testy tonight?"

"What are you doing here, Jack?"

Jack seemed to mull something over for a second, then spoke quietly.

"Well, ya see, I stopped over to your place earlier to ask a favor…"

MacGyver interrupted. "No."

"You don't even know what it is, Mac!"

"I don't care. No. To whatever it is. No."

Jack shrugged. "Alright, fine. Doesn't matter anyway. Because I got a little distracted while I was there. Ran into a handsome fella by the name of Sam."

MacGyver's eyes grew cold and hard, and his expression was completely unreadable. He stared at Jack in a way that might have given other men serious pause, but Jack plowed on.

"See, this young man has quite a tale to tell."

Mac's gaze shifted to the ice beneath his feet and stayed there. After a moment of quiet, he sighed and spoke a single word. "And?"

Jack pulled no punches.

"And I figure you're down here beating the crap out of yourself has a little something to do with this."

Jack pulled the paternity test results from his pocket and held it up for Mac to see.

Mac's eyes flashed the briefest of warnings, then storm clouds rolled into them and settled there.

"What are you doing with that?"

Jack looked at Mac with an expression of irritated disbelief. "Oh, I don't know, Mac. I didn't find it just laying around or anything like that. I really had to dig for it. Jesus! The kid knows you took off angry! The least you could've done is put this somewhere a little harder to find!"

MacGyver seemed to consider the fact that Sam might have seen the source of his upset for the first time. He ran one hand over his face, which was covered by a five o'clock shadow, and groaned.

"Did he see it?"

Jack shook his head. "I don't think so. I pocketed it pretty quick."

Mac sighed. "Thanks."

Jack shrugged. "Yeah. No problem, man. You've got enough to deal with without him seeing this right now. There's better ways to handle telling him."

MacGyver snorted a small laugh. "No doubt."

"So, when did you find him?"

"I didn't. He found me. About three weeks ago."

Jack nodded. "Huh. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I kinda did. I ran into him in the Chinese fiasco."

Jack looked at Mac incredulously. "Oh, yeah. You did tell me about that. What was it you told me again? You told me you ran into some trouble and broke your arm. That barely blips your radar, man. This is a world of difference."

MacGyver shrugged. "Yeah, well, I figured you'd find out soon enough. And it's bad enough having Pete beaming at me all the time. I didn't need more congratulations from you."

"So, the old man's pretty proud, huh?"

Mac nodded. "I think he's rather enjoying all this."

Jack smiled knowingly. "And you're not?"

A bitter laugh resounded through the empty arena.

"I don't know, Jack."

Jack chewed the inside of his lip and nodded thoughtfully. "That's understandable."

"I don't know anything. I mean, I've thought about kids. You know I have. But to have a nearly grown man thrown in my lap like this is just… I don't know… I don't know what to think."

"Maybe what you think doesn't matter, Mac."

MacGyver looked at his friend in confusion, so Jack explained.

"Maybe what matters is what you feel, kimosabe."

Another bitter laugh escaped Mac then.

"Well, Jack, that's an even bigger mystery."

Jack looked at MacGyver in contemplation for a moment, then spoke softly.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Really." Mac practically growled at Jack.

"Well, I'll take a stab at it. You're overwhelmed. One minute you think it's pretty cool, but you're scared to death that you might screw something up, even though the kid is pretty much already grown. The next minute you feel guilty because you were never there for him growing up, especially since he lost his mother so young. And as soon as you think about his mother, you're pissed. So mad you can't even see straight. You're angry with her for not telling you. You're angry that she took Sam's childhood away from you, and you're angry that she died. You can pretend all you want, MacGyver, but I know you loved her, and you were never ok when she left. You were mad then, and you're mad now. She went and got herself killed and put your child in danger. A child you never even knew you had because she didn't tell you. So you hoped that he wasn't yours after all, even though any idiot can see the resemblance. You still prayed that somehow he was wrong, that maybe Kate hadn't kept him from you. That maybe she hadn't lied to you. But now you can't deny him. The proof is right in front of you in black and white, and your anger is too much for you to take. So here you are, punishing yourself for something you didn't do because you can't stand it."

Jack's words hit MacGyver like a physical blow.

He seemed to fold in on himself like he'd been sucker punched. His head fell to his chest and his eyes squeezed shut painfully. He stayed that way for only a second, however. Then he straightened slightly and his eyes somehow found Jack's.

They didn't open completely. Brown irises looked out from under heavy lids on a face that was barely visible. Mac's head was still bowed and he looked, in a word, broken, but those eyes glared out at Jack with an intensity that was eerie to behold.

The emotions boiling behind Mac's eyes were so tumultuous that Jack couldn't tell what they were, but he knew he'd hit the nail on the head with his words. As he glared back at MacGyver, challenging him to confront his demons head on, a strange thing happened.

Mac's breathing became ragged and his eyes began to take on the shine that only tears can bring. He was trying to keep it in, but MacGyver was very near to crying.

Jack had seen MacGyver cry before, but the occasions were few and far between, and in every instance he hadn't been sure what to do.

This was no exception. Jack looked away for a fraction of a second, uncomfortable with the emotional battles his friend was fighting.

The broken contact was enough to cause MacGyver to lose what little control he had.

The usually strong Mac collapsed.

His knees buckled and he doubled over on himself, as if he were in physical pain. Somehow, the events of the last three weeks suddenly overwhelmed him. Finding Sam, the fight with the Chinese, his fractured arm and the surgery he'd had to repair it, dealing with Sam afterwards, Pete's ingratiating bullshit, and most of all the memory of Kate and all the baggage it brought with it… all of it came together and simply became too much.

Mac lost it.

The tears came.

And he let himself fall to the ice in a heap.

But his knees never crashed into the unforgiving surface.

His skates never slipped.

He never bruised his hands in an attempt to catch himself.

He didn't need to.

Because Jack Dalton had vaulted the side wall of the rink in a heartbeat like an Olympian. Jack wasn't usually the best athlete in the world, but as his eyes disconnected with Mac, the tiniest movement flared in his peripheral vision, and he reacted.

He didn't think.

He just moved.

And suddenly he was there.

MacGyver never fell.

He was cradled in Jack's arms as gently as a newborn for a moment, then lowered carefully to the ice. Jack sat with Mac, and comforted him as if he was a small child.

Broken gasps and sniffs seemed to echo unnaturally loudly in the rink occasionally, but for the most part Mac's grief was silent. His tears came in a torrent and his body shook, but he made little noise.

Jack made none.

XXX

It was a long moment later before MacGyver spoke.

"Sorry."

Jack mumbled a response. "No need."

Mac nodded against Jack's shoulder, then pulled his head away from it as his control started to return. "Still… God! Why didn't she tell me?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know, man. No one can say."

"I would've taken care of her. Of him. Both of them."

"I know."

"I know I was still just a kid, but…"

"Maybe that's what she didn't want, man."

Mac looked at Jack in confusion, with a bit of hurt thrown in. Jack tried to clarify.

"Mac, you knew Kate. She probably didn't want to be taken care of. Kate took the world head on, remember? Nothing too hard for Kate Malloy, right? She probably looked at Sam as another challenge to be met and beaten."

"But I could've helped her."

Jack laughed a sad little laugh. "When did Kate ever accept help from anyone? For that matter, when did you back then?"

Mac snorted back. "Good point. Still, she had no right…"

Jack held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, man, I'm not saying she did. I'm with you on this one. I'm not saying she was right here. I'm just saying she must've had her reasons. And while they don't make sense to us, she's not here, Mac. We can't ask her about it."

"Don't I know it. Good thing for her, too."

Jack sighed. Anger was bubbling back to the surface in his friend. "All I'm saying is that what's done is done. We can't change that. So, what're you going to do now? You going to live angry for the rest of your life? You can try-Lord knows you're good at that, but I wouldn't recommend it. It'll just ruin your relationship with Sam."

"I don't have a relationship with Sam now."

"Does he want to be with you?"

MacGyver shrugged. "Seems to."

Jack shrugged back. "Well, there you go, then."

"It's not that simple, Jack."

"The way I see it, it pretty much is, amigo."

MacGyver gave Jack a mock look of reverence. "Oh, please explain, oh wise one."

Jack ignored the jibe. "Did you love Kate?"

The question surprised Mac and seemed to jolt him a little. It was a moment before he answered in a whisper.

"You know I did."

"Well then, you have a choice here. You can see Kate's lies every time you look at Sam or you can see the part of her you loved, and unless I miss my guess, the part of her you still love."

MacGyver was silent a long time after Jack stopped talking. He studied his own hands. Finally, in a voice even quieter than the one he's just used, he breathed another admission.

"I see her every time I look at him."

Jack nodded. "It'd be hard not to."

"Pete says he's a lot like me, but I only see Kate."

"Can't feel good."

Mac shook his head. "Nope."

Jack sighed. "I've known you a long time, Mac, and Lord knows you've had a lot of women, but…"

MacGyver interrupted. "You're one to talk."

Jack laughed. "No arguments here, but that's not the point. What I was going to say is that I can only think of a few that you got serious with. Kate Malloy's on the short list, Mac. Now, I know that memory's got its ups and downs, but the way I see it, you have a chance to rewrite it a bit. Sam gives you that chance. Make up for the time you lost, man."

"You think I can?"

Jack shrugged. "I think it's the only way to think about this and stay sane."

"You have a point there," conceded Mac. "But…"

Jack looked at Mac expectantly, but no more words came. "What?"

"You don't think he resents that I wasn't there?"

Jack shook his head. "He's not a child, Mac. He understands the world's an ugly place, and sometimes things don't work out the way they should. I believe the words he used with me are 'yeah, it's like that'. He understands, man."

"But that's just it. He isn't a child. He doesn't need me."

Jack sighed. Damn, MacGyver could be one stubborn son of a bitch sometimes. "Mac, let me ask you something."

"What?"

"Do you still wish your folks were with you?"

"All the time," admitted Mac.

"Then why wouldn't he?"

MacGyver blinked at Jack a few times and suddenly realization came into his eyes. Jack saw the expression and grinned.

"See, he gets a piece of his mom, back, too. She died when he was just a little kid, Mac. Since he found you, he has a part of her back. He asked me about her tonight, man. He wants to know all he can. And he has a family that he never had in you. Sure, it's not exactly conventional, and there's gonna be ups and downs, but you guys are all you've got. You may as well give it a shot."

MacGyver smiled at Jack's words. After a moment, they seemed to sink in, and his smile grew a little. "Yeah, I guess so, huh?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah. Now can we get out of here? My butt is freezing!"

MacGyver laughed then, and it resounded through the rink. Neither man had noticed that they were still sitting on the ice, cross-legged and facing each other, until Jack's comment. After a moment, Mac nodded and stood.

"Yeah, let's go. I'm starving."

Jack frowned. "Yeah, well, dinner's gonna have to wait. You're bleeding."

MacGyver looked where Jack indicated and saw a small puddle of frozen crimson on the bright white of the ice.

Then he looked at his sleeve. He sighed and cursed to himself.

"It's my arm. I don't have a cast or anything on it. They did surgery to fix it. Plates inside. Worked great, and it usually feels pretty good, but sometimes I still irritate the incision some."

Jack frowned deeper. "Shouldn't that be healed by now?"

MacGyver grinned a grin that hinted at his usual mischievous nature.

"Well, let's just say I've been playing a lot of hockey lately."

Jack grinned back, understanding what had really been said, and stood to join his friend.

"Understood, kimosabe. Now, what say you to some clean-up here, then some late grub?"

Mac smiled. "Anything but Chinese."

XXX

Thirty minutes later, a freshly showered MacGyver met Jack Dalton at the side door of the rink.

The blood stain was gone from the ice, the black scars were cleaned from the sidewalls, and the hockey pucks were tucked safely in their storage bin, all courtesy of Jack. He knew the drill. This wasn't his first trip to the ice rink in the middle of the night.

And somehow he knew it wouldn't be his last.

For as long as Angus MacGyver had problems, he'd skate.

And as long as Mac skated, Jack would be there to make sure he was ok.

Because while sometimes Jack could be more than a little irresponsible, and while things in both men's lives might be as tumultuous as a hurricane, some things never changed.

Jack Dalton smiled as MacGyver left a note of thanks on the manager's desk, and he lifted a thanks of his own to whoever was listening that once again his 'bad penny' gene had kicked in tonight.

He'd shown up at just the right time to help MacGyver through a rough night, and he was glad.

As Mac finished writing and turned to the door, he smiled a tiny grateful smile that was tinged with embarrassment. Jack saw the grin and nodded once back.

Mac nodded in response and smiled men knew from the exchange that the events of the evening would only leave the building if the rafters learned to walk and talk.

Since that wasn't very likely, neither man worried about it as they headed out into the night together to face the world for another day. Another day they could figure out as they went.

'Yep,' thought Jack. 'Some things never change. And thank God for that.'


End file.
